Nothing
by RRP
Summary: Set three years after Trudy's death. A short ficlet in which Monk tries to deal with her death. Please RR!


Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

A/N: Song is "At the Top of My Lungs" by Dashboard Confessional. A bit of ficlet set before the show.

Nothing

_by RRP_

_It's not that I'm missing_

_Or even that I'm needing you,_

_It's just that I'm scared to be alone,_

_And for all of the nights spent alone by her side_

_Wishing she would just breathe a word_

The flower was poised perfectly atop the polished tombstone. He ran his fingers over the cold granite, understanding the bitter sting of the empty smoothness.

It was nothing like her soft skin, blushed on a light summer evening.

But it was all he had left.

"Hi, Trudy..."

There was no answer, and he willed her to be there, beside him, holding his hand and whispering that it would be alright. But nothing happened. He opened his eyes and he was still alone.

"It's been three years now."

So close. It seemed like forever, and then only a day. Three years was such a cheap label.

The sun was setting and darkness was creeping upon the graveyard.

Adrian Monk ignored it.

Somewhere in the distance was a vacant, pristine house with his fresh sheets and ironed pillowcases.

He gulped, and sank to his knees in the grass. It didn't matter that it was dirty on the ground, or that he'd have to throw the pants away as soon as he reached his house. One hand lingered on the stone, tracing the letters absently.

"Say something, please..."

The silence mocked him. __

_And I'm screaming- at the top of my lungs,_

_And I'm breathing- cause you've left me undone,_

_And I'm looking for reasons for words that you just could not say._

Dr. Kroeger was ordinarily a calm man. And when Sharona Fleming had called, he had been expecting it. He knew what today was.

He hadn't been expecting what he heard in the background.

Raw, consuming agony tore at his very soul. Sharona had tried to yell over the sound.

He had only managed to catch, "Door locked," "Can't get to him," and "Come quick."

So he had climbed into his car, and come the closest to speeding that he had for years.

The apartment door was open, and the neighbors were yelling. Sharona met him at the door, near tears.

"He came back from the graveyard, and shut himself in the study. He just...started shrieking like that..."

Dr. Kroeger banged on the door, and there was a furious roar in return.

"Go _away_! Just leave me alone!"

"I can't do that, Adrian." The psychologist had replied as evenly as he could.

In the end, Kroeger had to put his old Quantico training to use and kick down the door.

The room was torn apart. Boxes, shelves, books, were on the floor. Adrian Monk was curled up in the corner, banging his head against the wall over and over again, moaning to himself in a hoarse voice.

He was surrounded by all the files on Trudy's case.

Dr. Kroeger knelt down next to his patient, and knew without looking that Sharona was behind him.

"Adrian? Adrian, talk to me."

"I have to know, I have to know..."

"Know what?"

"Who took her. I have to know why she didn't have time."

"Time for what, Adrian?" Dr. Kroeger prodded, reaching a hand towards the man. Adrian flinched, pulling away.

"She didn't have time to say goodbye. She didn't have time to say I love you." __

_I'm dying for something,_

_I'm living for nothing,_

_And needing to just hear those words._

_I'll leave you again,_

_And gain all the pain that I can._

In the middle of the night, he wasn't alone.

Sharona had gone home. Kroeger had left.

The vacuum was in the closet, untouched.

And she laughed down the hall, she smiled at him from the kitchen. She teased him with a roguish grin in the bedroom.Her face haunted his vision, shining like beacons on the walls, captured behind glass and wooden frames.

Trudy was everywhere.

Except where he wanted her. Next to him, leaning against him while he held her.

Letting him be strong.

Instead, her ghost played with his weakness.

In a way, he thought he deserved it. For not protecting her. For not knowing.

He stood rigid in the hall, and let the phantoms have him. __

_It's not that I'm listening_

_Or even that I'm hearing you,_

_It's just that I'm scared of what you'll say,_

_And for all of the nights spent alone by her side_

_Wishing she would just breathe a word._

Dawn found him by the tombstone again, slumped against the marker like a vagabond.

"_Bread and butter,_" She had said.

"_Let go,_"

"I can't. I can't do it, Trudy. Don't say it again, please."

"_Let go,_"

A sob racked his body, and even the stars abandoned him as the cruel sun rose.

The world would have another bright day.

Adrian Monk would spend the day hating it. __

_And I'm screaming- at the top of my lungs,_

_And I'm breathing- cause you've left me undone,_

_And I'm looking for reasons for words that you just could not say._

It was years later that he stood before the board, hoping to be reinstated.

Her death still ate at him, day and night.

His cage still guarded him from normalcy.

"This is the fourth time in a year, is it not?"

"Every three months, sir." Adrian Monk replied promptly. He could have told the man how long it had been to the minute, but he refrained from doing so. The seconds ticked on in his head.

"Well, Mr. Monk. Are you some type of glutton for punishment?"

It was a harsh thing to say, and beyond uncalled for.

Adrian Monk just nodded. "Yes, sir. I am." __

They laughed.

But he hadn't been joking.

_I'm dying for something,_

_I'm living for nothing,_

_And needing to just hear those words._

_I'll leave you again,_

_And gain all the pain that I can._

_I'll leave you again,_

_And gain all the pain that I can._


End file.
